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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564158">Always Being Let Go</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saveourskinship/pseuds/Saveourskinship'>Saveourskinship</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Draco pov, Draco's Parents Are Supportive, F/M, Flashback Blaise Zabini/Hermione Granger, Fluff, Hermione Wants To Be Single, Hermione is a Serial Monogamist, Hermione is oblivious, Hermione's Seduction Technique is Oversharing, Past Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass - Freeform, Past Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini - Freeform, Past Hermione Granger/Cormac McLaggen - Freeform, Past Hermione Granger/Roger Davies, Past Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger - Freeform, Pining Draco, Sarcastic Draco, She's Very Bad At It, Super Fluffy HEA, Tried for Smoot Ended Up With Floof, past Hermione granger/Oliver wood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:27:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saveourskinship/pseuds/Saveourskinship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has been waiting for years for Hermione Granger to be available again. The witch jumps from relationship to relationship faster than a Firebolt can do a lap around a Quidditch pitch. She hasn't been single for longer than a few weeks since she was 15. Surely this time Draco can ask her out in time?</p><p>Narcissa schemes, Draco dreams, Harry is protective but not too much. Hermione... needs to get her crap together. </p><p>Floofy floofy floof.</p><p>(Was gonna be inspired by 'Waste It On Me' by Steve Aoki but it became too fluffy)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>154</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Always Being Let Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco saw her sitting there and just know another one ran away.</p><p>She is attempting to be social with Potter and Weaslette. I know the table was booked for four. It always is. There have been many iterations of this over the years. Weasley was over before the ink of Granger’s diploma even dried, McLaggen ran all the way to Canada, Blaise slunk away in cowardice, at least Wood had been pulled away by his team rather than run. This time it was Davies. He lasted a long time, longer than most.</p><p>But that look is on her face again. The one that is shallow, skin-deep. Smile tight and fragile, eyes not fully present. Her hand resting on her chest, fingers tapping on her left shoulder. She makes it look effortless and casual. But I can see she’s using it to look after her heart. The one that is currently broken even as she tries to hide it.</p><p>A camera pop flashes and the thin veneer slips a little afterwards, she leans her face into her hand, pretending to laugh but I know it for the moment of recovery it truly is. That invasiveness is usually what drives them away. These so-called men not man enough to handle being with Hermione Granger. They begin falling for the lies the <em>Prophet</em> spouts, their feelings for her becoming too strong to overcome the idea that the implied connections with others are falsehoods. Not secure enough in themselves to withstand the pressure.</p><p>She moves her thumb while smiling at the red-head witch beside her, it strokes her fourth finger as if wanting to twirl a ring, she stills ever so slightly when she realises that band and stone are gone with the man they connected her to.</p><p>The photographer has noticed she is without it and has begun a flurry of questions and photographs. I scowl as my mother continues her conversation with me. It is our weekly dinner, Father is absent this time.</p><p>“Draco, dear,” she pats her mouth delicately with the thick linen napkin. “Are you quite alright? I perhaps should not have brought up seeing Astoria today, but darling it was years ago you dissolved the courtship. I hope I did not upset you.”</p><p>“Nothing you did, mother,” I assure her, my eyes sliding just past her to Granger’s table. “That buzzard is giving me a headache.” I knead my forehead to assist my lie. My mother does what she does best.</p><p>She rises gracefully, genially smiling to the host who had come to attend her. Narcissa Malfoy never stands before a meal has concluded unless something terrible has occurred.</p><p>“Is everything alright, Lady Malfoy?” the host appears anxious. The restaurant’s popularity with the high society of wizarding Britain lives and dies with my mother’s opinion, despite the haunt being a favourite of the Golden Trio and star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies.</p><p>My mother’s voice is polite, too polite. The host freezes, ready to do whatever necessary to reclaim Narcissa’s good graces. “Salvatore, I have noticed you now document your patrons? If I had known I would have worn better robes, I simply cannot be seen in these again so close to the Prewett luncheon.”</p><p>I smile into my whisky. Salvatore is making placations already. Of course it would have been astounding business for his restaurant if the scandal of Hermione Granger’s broken engagement was discovered here, but my mother will outperform any common customer a hundred times over.</p><p>“Lady Malfoy, I can assure you, I was not aware of this heinous transgression upon my property, I will see to it immediately he be removed.” Salvatore dove into immediate action, summoning people to get things moving.</p><p>My mother nodded and reseated herself to Savaltore’s relief, and the paparazzo was physically ejected by a couple of burly kitchenhands.</p><p>She addressed me again after being poured a complimentary glass of champagne from Salvatore which I gratefully accepted as well.</p><p>“Draco, perhaps if you had not insisted we change these dinners to Fridays six months ago, I would not have to field interruptions so often afforded us by Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley and Miss Granger.” Her eyes were turned downward and she had a small smile as she sipped from the flute.</p><p>The table behind my mother was looking far more relaxed now and Granger had turned to see the exit of the photographer. As she looked back, her eyes came to rest with mine and for the brief second it was held, it felt like an oasis in a desert, my mouth parched and dry once it was gone. Her eyes sliding away and her face blank.</p><p>I think she must have suspected we had something to do with the ejection but she couldn’t fathom our motivations. She turned to Potter and his girlfriend again, they made her laugh, a real one this time. It was over too quickly though and her usually breathy sigh of happiness afterwards didn’t come. Instead her hands gripped her upper arms as if giving herself a hug.</p><p>“Draco, dear?” my mother’s voice held more warning now. I’d been ignoring her. She raised her eyebrows at me. “I will relocate these dinners if you insist on paying more attention to what is behind me. I know your father finds it endlessly amusing, but he is not here tonight and I so rarely am able to catch you alone.”</p><p>I rolled my eyes subtly, she saw it anyway. “Mother, we have afternoon tea every Tuesday. You see me alone every week.”</p><p>“Not lately,” she thanked the server who had placed the soup course in front of her. “You have claimed to be too busy with your project at the Ministry. Is it not enough seeing Mr. Potter and Miss Granger there?”</p><p>“I’m doing research, it is never enough,” I reply, but I give her a smile as she huffs and I pull my focus back to her. It is true that I have been neglecting my mother’s company for the past month as I help the Department of Mysteries and Law Enforcement with a particularly strange Dark artefact.</p><p>“So tell me more about this soiree the Fawcett’s are hosting?” I ask her, finishing the champagne.</p><p>“You are expected to attend, with a guest.” She gives me a significant look. It is not considered polite to fly solo for Sacred Twenty-Eight gatherings. They needn’t be a date, but they have to at least be a contact, preferably influential, rich or powerful. Mother floats the soup spoon to her lips as if it is a dance. “Perhaps you should show with Miss Granger?”</p><p>I look at her with a grin, shaking my head. “She would hate it. A bunch of stuffy purebloods in a room who only want her there to gain something? Not her idea of a good time.”</p><p>Mother fixed me with a look, a twinkle there. A look I’ve known to regret receiving. “You may be surprised.”</p><p>My face dropped, the meddling had already begun before I could stop it. She continued, “I asked if she would accompany me last week at the Flourish &amp; Blotts event. At the time Lucius was unable to attend. Now he can and I would be loathe to rescind the invitation.”</p><p>My whisky halted in its journey to my lips. “You did what?” I knew my mother had been forcing her friendship on Granger for months now, joining and donating heavily to the fortnightly Flourish &amp; Blotts Antiquity Tome gatherings. I’m sure the woman sitting near us would only have accepted out of politeness but I felt a stab of hurt that she hadn’t mentioned it to me. We’d been working closely together since the last meeting.</p><p>“Now Draco, don’t look so put out that I managed to ask her out before you could.” She was positively delighting in this. I exhaled in exasperation, taking a larger gulp of my drink than I had anticipated.</p><p>I snuck a look back at the table but it looked like the three were about to leave. “Mother, I really wish you would just leave it alone. She was still engaged two weeks ago.”</p><p>“And now she is not,” her reply was simple and to the point.</p><p>I narrowed my eyes at her. “It was obviously very recent, there’s been no mention in the press and she wasn’t in the office this week. How did <em>you</em> know?”</p><p>“Because, dear. You are looking at her like your heart is breaking for her while your eyes swim with hope. You haven’t looked like that in three years.” She paused, eyes flicking to where the other table were leaving. “Oh hello Hermione, darling,” she waylaid the witch as they walked to the exit.</p><p>Granger stopped and her shoulders tensed. Tonight had already been hard on her and I knew she just wanted to get home. Potter was giving her a concerned look but she waved him on. His eyes slid to mine and I just shrugged. He nodded in understanding before turning to a waiting Salvatore. Granger faced our table, putting a gracious smile on for my mother.</p><p>She looked so lovely tonight in midnight blue velvet, her hair curled around her shoulders. But her spirit was trapped in sadness and the usual bright smile, bouncy step and spark in her eye were all dull. I wished I was friends enough with her to offer comfort but our relationship was largely professional despite our camaraderie at work.</p><p>“Good evening Lady Malfoy,” Granger spoke, her voice was a touch more hoarse than usual. “It’s good to see you Draco, I’m sorry I haven’t been in this week. I was… I’ve been working from home.”</p><p>“Your absence was noted.” I give her my most apathetic and put upon expression. “I don’t know how you have the patience to deal with Goldstein’s endless questions, he used me as your substitute the whole time you’ve been away. Please don’t leave me like that again.”</p><p>She gives that half-smile she uses when she finds something funny even when she knows she shouldn’t. She tucked a strand of hair behind her hair the way she does when she forgets herself and is in the moment. These are the times I live for. When I am the one to create them.</p><p>“I’ll be sure to inform you of any further misfortune, Draco.” She had stopped calling me Malfoy when I joined the team. Something about an equal footing with everyone. I still called her Granger. I flush when I try to call her by her first name.</p><p>“I regret that Lucius is able to join me for the Prewetts next week after all, so I’ve offered for my son to escort you instead if you don’t mind? And it’s Narcissa,” My mother looked at the witch with a thoughtful tilt to her head, decadent smile in place.</p><p>Granger started backtracking on the invite, shaking her hands in a placating way in front of her. “Oh no, Lady Malfoy- Narcissa! I would hate to burden Draco with my company. I’m sure there is someone else he would rather spend that time with,” she looked panicked, a furtive glance coasting my way before she flushed bright red.</p><p>“Nonsense, Hermione,” my mother tsked her. “It would be a grave insult to rescind such an invitation to an acquaintance. Please do say you will accept my alternative?” my mother was a master at social manipulation. Granger ran her bottom lip through perfect white teeth, her eyes cast downward flicking back and forth trying to find a polite way out of this.</p><p>She gave me a quick, pained look that suggested she was sorry. “Al-alright, Mrs- Narcissa. I would be glad to accompany Draco…”</p><p>“Splendid!” my mother gave her a wolfish grin. “I shall expect to see you at 4pm before the event. We can have tea and get ready together. I so rarely have female company before such occasions.”</p><p>Another grave insult loomed in the space between Granger and my mother at this invitation. Granger gave me another look. I answered it and gave my head a near imperceptible shake to answer her invisible question that no, there wasn’t any way out of this.</p><p>“O-OK, that would be lovely, Narcissa. I’ll see you then.” Granger pivoted slowly with an awkward smile to my mother and left with Potter.</p><p>Granger’s stammering showed the strain the evening had taken on her, she wasn’t the confident witch I knew her to be at the moment. I glared at my mother. “I am perfectly capable of setting myself up with a girlfriend you know.”</p><p>My mother gave an uncharacteristic quirk of her eyebrow. “Perhaps, but when I convinced the Yastreb Quidditch team to take on Mr. Wood, you let Miss Granger slip through your fingers. I will attempt to give you every opportunity this time around.” She sighed at me as if I had immensely disappointed her and I grit my teeth.</p><p>“You placed a singular comment in the ear of the coach, he was already tipped to transfer,” I hated that mother had helped that along. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Granger laugh as often as she did with Wood.</p><p>“That singular comment was made to the coach by the owner of the team’s wife. He couldn’t very well ignore it,” she countered. I rolled my eyes, of course Lucius had bought the team, I’m sure on my mother’s request. The woman didn’t seem to realise that her machinations were potentially the biggest threat to any chance I had with Granger.</p><p>“Stop toying with her, mother. She’s a real person, not a doll for you to manipulate into my life. I will take her to the Prewett’s, but only because I can tell she wants to go, not because you said so.” My voice is hard and icy, a trait I learned from her so she only appears amused.</p><p>“I know that, darling. I’m only doing what needs to be done,” she brought her head up in a look of determination I have rarely seen. “This is for both of you, dear. I’m not being selfish for your sake.”</p><p>I scoffed at her and redirected the conversation to other topics. How my mother possibly thought Hermione Granger would be happy with me was beyond my reasonable comprehension.</p><hr/><p>Despite her heartbreak, Granger clearly had been working from home. On Monday, she showed me the partial translation she had made for the runes. It was Etruscan, of course it was Etruscan. We’d thought maybe Cumaean, Etruscan made much more sense. She’d translated a small portion already. She asked me to help her do the rest. Then we could interpret what the purpose of the artifact was. Why it had suddenly started spouting dark magics before it was put in stasis.</p><p>Goldstein asked her 46 questions over the first few days she was back. She was patient and kind every time. I fantasised about transfiguring him into a Bludger and knocking him halfway across the Ministry.</p><p>Over the week we had translated most of the artifact. Granger had finally found her fire again by Wednesday when I showed her the device had been a prison. She’d been reading an antiquity periodical, starting from the back page and working her way forward. She always read magazines and journals this way. I’m not sure if she even noticed I handed her them that way now.</p><p>“Granger,” I had sat in front of her, placing one of her ridiculous coffee orders in front of her. Iced coffee with far too much whipped cream, caramel and chocolate swirls, ice clinking in a way that matched her laugh so nicely. It was hardly a coffee, it was a dessert. A stark difference to my triple-shot espresso.</p><p>She looked up at me with an excited “Ooh,” as I pushed the decadent abomination towards her, taking the straw and dragging on it with a happy little dance bouncing her head. “Mm, so good! Thank you,” she smiled at me and slicked a finger through the cream, bringing it to her mouth and sucking on the fingertip. She had no idea how everything in me shuddered at it, she was always so unaware of how delicious she was. No wonder she had barely been single for a month cumulatively over the past eight or so years.</p><p>
  <em>”So we’re finally going to meet her?” I had asked Theo.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, he really likes her. Never thought Blaise would settle down, she must be pretty exceptional,” Theo had laughed into his beer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Blaise was not known for having a girlfriend. He was known for flings, high-profile ones with the most eligible bachelorettes Wizarding Europe had to offer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Theo had nudged me looking towards the entrance. “Oh, this is hilarious. No wonder he never told us who it was.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Blaise had entered, looking sheepish. An expression I had never seen on the man before. His hand was clasped around that of none other than Hermione Granger. She was smiling at Blaise and tucking her hair behind an ear. I hadn’t seen her in person in a long time. She’d become so striking, and the way she looked at Blaise, sweet and earnest in her affection… I could see how affected my friend was by it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They had reached the booth and slid in. Blaise still had his fingers laced with hers on the table. He’d addressed us, with a look as if daring Theo and I to be rude.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You remember Hermione Granger, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Four months later I had burst into Blaise’s penthouse. There were bottles of alcohol strewn around and a giggling coming from the bedroom. I’d strode over and nearly ripped the door from the frame.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Get out.” My voice was quiet and frozen in my fury. The witch that was laying half-naked on my friend gasped but gathered her things and left. Blaise let it happen, lying on his bed, waiting for me to explode.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How could you do this to her?” I clenched my fists and balled them to my sides, afraid of stepping closer and seeing how my anger would manifest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Blaise didn’t answer, I could see him swallowing and staring at the ceiling, his eyes darting over it like he was trying not to cry.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It was too much, Drake. I couldn’t do it- it was too much.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re a coward, you were finally happy you fucking arsehole.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You think I don’t know that!” Blaise had thumped the mattress with a fist. “She- she deserves better. This is the best way I know how to give that to her.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t get to choose what’s best for her. Fucking hell, Blaise. You had it, you found it with Hermione Granger. The thing you’ve been secretly looking for in all your affairs. And you’ve destroyed it, so thoroughly she’ll run screaming from any Slytherin who dares look at her again.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Blaise had turned to look at me, a despair so deep showing in his eyes. “And that’s what you’re truly angry at, right mate?”</em>
</p><p>“Draco?” Granger asked, pulling me away from the memory. She was stirring the cream in now, kicking her feet under the table. She never could stay still when she was happy or excited.</p><p>I pulled a piece of parchment out. “Take a look at this. I know we thought it meant ‘hold’ but the Etruscans also used this word for prison. I think the artifact is a bloodline prison meant to harbour Dark energy that was siphoned from an evil wizard. The last of the bloodline must have died and the magics of the artifact were no longer contained.”</p><p>Granger had reached out and grabbed my wrist, her mouth open. She had been far more open with her physical contact now she was single. And just as open with her compliments. “Wow, you are truly brilliant, Draco! I think you must be right. Once we fully translate it, I’ll pass it along to the Destruction Department, they’ll know how to best deal with it. You’ll be back to your regularly scheduled life in no time.” She paused, her honesty turned from impulsive to introspective. “I hope you know how grateful I am that you accepted this project, it’s been wonderful working with you.”</p><p>She smiled at me and withdrew her hand. Everything in me shuttered like a Venetian blind in the wind. Of course, I wouldn’t be seeing her every weekday anymore. I wouldn’t get to hear her use my name with affirmations tripping after it or enjoy the easy way she touched and looked at me as if I was special to her. And of course right then Goldstein had to come up with his 47th question of the week.</p><p>“Hey Hermione,” he completely ignored me. Understandable, he was standing near Granger. “I saw the Ministry is doing their annual symposium with the Wizengamot this Saturday. I think you promised me last year we would go.”</p><p>He was teasing her and Granger smiled at him apologetically. “I’m sorry Anthony, I don’t think I exactly promised. I think I promised to promise. I’m already going to an event with the Malfoy family on Saturday. It’s for a charity I donate to so I would really like to hear what the funds will be dedicated towards this year. Can I promise to promise again next year?”</p><p>Goldstein laughed, not taking his eyes off her. “Of course, I’ll have to actually remember, give you a bit more warning. Let’s have coffee next week,” he pushed off as they said goodbye to each other.</p><p>Granger turned back to me and grinned. “Lucky I have you, huh. I knew he’d ask me out as soon as the <em>Prophet</em> announced Roger had left me.”</p><p>I quirked an eyebrow at her. She shrugged and sipped more “coffee”. “I think I’ve finally learned my lesson. It’s all a bit pointless isn’t it? Everyone will betray you in the end or leave. I’ll just rely on myself from now on. It’s about time I learned how to.” Her feet stilled under the table and her teeth were worrying her bottom lip. “I’ve never lived by myself, it might be a fun, new adventure.”</p><p>She couldn’t look at me which was rare. She always looked at people when she talked to them. She kept her head up but turned away and there was levity in her voice, but the angle of her smile was off by 5 degrees and she wasn’t waving her hands around like she usually did, keeping them around the base of her drink, condensation pooling over her fingers. She was terribly, irrevocably sad right now.</p><p>“You are being awfully dour, Granger. Perhaps I should tell my mother you got a better offer from Goldstein that I begged you to take to avoid how mopey you are,” I rolled my eyes at her.</p><p>She laughed properly, it sparked in her eyes and tinkles around the room like spring rain on corrugated iron. She sighed as she got herself under control again and finally looked at me, “Sorry, thanks for indulging me. I’m actually looking forward to Saturday, so please don’t cancel.”</p><p>I smirk at her. “An empty threat, my mother would kill me.”</p><p>Granger sparkles back at me, alive again. “I rather think she would. She’s had a singular focus to get me to attend one of these with her ever since she joined the club at Flourish &amp; Blotts.” She screwed up her nose a little like she was disappointed with something but she was used to it. Of course she was used to it. She was Hermione Granger.</p><p>“I should let you know, my mother doesn’t want to befriend you for prestige or social clout. She read an editorial you wrote for <em>The Quibbler</em>. Something about how integrating and forging alliances with various magical creatures like Cornish pixies and gnomes can create difficult to cultivate varieties of flowers. Our rose garden thanks you for the advice and now my mother believes you will be rather spectacular friends.” I shoot her a bemused expression. Aside from my mother’s delusion that Granger and I were made for each other, this was her less embarrassing reason for wanting the witch in her life.</p><p>Granger looked at me with an incredibly entertained expression. She was detangling an earring from her hair like she had to do approximately a thousand times a day. “Your mother reads <em>The Quibbler</em>?”</p><p>“She takes tea with Xenophilius and Luna on occasion, she also introduced Luna to Rolf Scamander. She is an avid subscriber and donator to all their endeavours. She enjoys it even if it is just one of her many manifestations of guilt.”</p><p>Granger nodded. “I know something of that,” she looked at me askance before trilling her fingers over her bottom lip the way she did whenever she thought about the war or its aftermath. Most likely my trial this time. Her quiet seething rage, hands shaking as she laid out wizarding law and piece after piece of irrefutable evidence against children being held accountable for actions they were forced into. It was the last time I had seen her before Blaise brought her to that pub.</p><p>“Come on now, we have an artifact to translate,” she smiled at me and held her hand out. I just looked at it before catching her eyes again with an amused smile. She drew her hand back, bashfully. I stood, shaking my head at her before we headed back to where the artifact was being kept.</p><p>She hurried along beside me, skipping occasionally to keep up. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” she was tripping over her words, embarrassed.</p><p>“You just wasted such a pretty speech, Granger. Oh yes, living by yourself will be such an adventure for you if you reach out to any wizard in your near proximity.” I tsked at her and she buried her hands in her hands and nearly ran into Dawlish before I pulled her away by her elbow.</p><p>“I’m trying!” she was laughing. “I solemnly swear that I’ll try to be good for once, not just bounce from relationship to relationship. I haven’t been properly single since I was fifteen. That’s so pathetic right?”</p><p>“Enormously so. It’s a miracle you didn’t jump Goldstein at your earliest opportunity. He’s enamoured enough that you could be married before the week was out.” I grinned at her as she scoffed, refuting my claim and steadfastly reasserting her intention to be by herself for a good long while. Her eyes were fiery and determined and she was using her hands to illustrate her points so expressly that notes fluttered out of the folder she was attempting to carry under her arm. I cast a charm so they followed her back to the office as she talked at me.</p><p>Even as I felt buoyed by her company in this moment a stone had settled at her revelations. My mother was going to be disappointed.</p><hr/><p>Saturday came and I was playing Quidditch with Potter that morning. He’d wheedled me into joining the DMLE team while I was still contracted there. It was a social tournament but he was desperate to beat his girlfriend’s team at the <em>Daily Prophet</em>. Apparently being on retainer for the occasional article was enough to qualify you for the team so their side was very strong.</p><p>It was five-a-side with no Snitch. Three Chasers, a Keeper and a Beater. The rest of our team, was really not great but surprisingly Potter and I played well together. It was almost evenly matched until our third Chaser got hit by a Bludger and we started being steamrolled.</p><p>Ginevra was a terrible winner, I could see why Potter had wanted to beat her so badly, but both teams got a couple drinks after the game and Potter approached me when I was getting another round.</p><p>“So, you’re taking Hermione to this ball, gala whatever thing tonight?” His look was curious but he seemed to be unsure what to do with his hands, crossing them over his chest before deciding perhaps that was too defensive and putting them by his side where his fingers twitched.</p><p>“My mother extended the invite then used me as a convenient excuse not to renege on it once my father decided he would go after all,” I kept my face carefully blank as Potter took in the information.</p><p>Potter scratched the back of his neck. He was like Granger where his hands couldn’t stay still. “She’s staying with us at the moment. Last time she only stayed ten days before she ended up spending every night at Roger’s and eventually moved in.”</p><p>“She told me she was trying to break her habit of serial monogamy,” my remark landed with Potter and he seemed slightly relieved that I was already aware of the fact. “She already turned down a date with Goldstein.”</p><p>Potter widened his eyes and nodded. “Not just him. People just appear out of the woodwork everytime it is confirmed she is available again. Even one of Ginny and Ron’s brothers has written to her saying she should come visit. I’d had no idea he was interested but apparently he writes every time.” He looked at me in disbelief. “The <em>Prophet</em> broke the news on what Tuesday? Twenty people have asked her out. If she liked any one of them she’d just jump into something new again.” He gave me a significant look that I was supposed to interpret as a warning. I didn’t know why I was getting these overtures. Both my mother and now Potter? It was ridiculous.</p><p>“Subtlety has never been your strong suit. If you want to say something, just come out with it,” I sipped my drink and handed one to him as well which he took a hearty gulp from.</p><p>“Just- Will you please not make a move on her unless you are sure. She doesn’t do casual, the last time she tried with Blaise destroyed her.” I knew that, I’d been the one to find her when she found out Blaise was cheating. I’d Apparated her to Potter’s since she couldn’t herself. Clinging onto my arm and telling me goodbye in a voice so heartbroken my resolve was very nearly torn down. He didn’t seem to know that. “Malfoy, I don’t know how long she can keep picking herself up without hardening. I don’t know why they all do this to her.”</p><p>He was angry now. I didn’t really know what happened with Davies, but Potter was furious over it. I chuckled at him. “What?” he demanded.</p><p>“Did you think about the fact that if I <em>was</em> sure that I would be taking this conversation as your blessing?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Potter, do I have your approval for Granger’s hand?”</p><p>He stared at me, rigid. I laughed. “Don’t worry mate, I’m fucking with you.” I slapped him on the back hard enough that he stumbled and delivered the rest of the drinks to the table.</p><hr/><p>“Draco!” my mother’s charmed voice called down the hall while I was attempting to wrangle a disobedient cufflink. “Miss Granger has arrived, would you accompany her to the sitting room?”</p><p>I huffed, crossing the room to use my wand, grumbling to the cufflink as it threaded through the hole finally. Then I cast the same charm to reply, “She’s your guest not mine, Mother. And she would prefer the library.”</p><p>There was a pause. “I’ve already sent her to you, dear!”</p><p>I rolled my eyes and opened the door to the suite I stayed in when at the Manor. Of course she was standing there already. She looked awkward.</p><p>“Hi,” she squeaked. She thought she was inconveniencing me. She was nervous, her hands clasped together in front of her. She only did that when she was uncomfortable and tense.</p><p>“You haven’t been here since the war?” I asked her. She nodded. “We destroyed that room and the dining room. Too many people were eaten in there.”</p><p>Her eyes widened. She instinctively followed me as I moved past her to lead her into the library. She was horrified, and curious.</p><p>“What do you mean eaten?”</p><p>“Nagini ate our Muggle Studies professor in there. And Greyback ate… other things. Too many things,” she was doing her little skipping hop to keep up again. I could slow down but usually if I did she thought too hard and occasionally became clumsy.</p><p>“Professor Burbage was eaten? Was she… alive?” she sounded disgusted but also like a loose end had been tied. I knew she hated not knowing the answers to questions she had. However, she would rarely ask knowing most people wanted to look ahead now.</p><p>“No, Voldemort Avada’d her first.” At least that had been a small mercy.</p><p>“That’s a relief,” she exhaled and her shoulders relaxed.</p><p>“You ready?” I ask her, hand on the door. She looked at me with wide eyes.</p><p>“To be eaten?” Her squeak was back.</p><p>“Am I a vampire, Granger? No. For this-” I pushed into the room, walking backwards to see her reaction. It was priceless.</p><p>She walked in slowly, her eyes filled with awe and her mouth slack, taking in everywhere, the reading area by the fireplace, the window seat on the upper level and the stacks and stacks of books. Mother must have informed a house elf because there was a bar cart by the armchairs.</p><p>By the time I turned to see what she wanted to drink she had disappeared. I heard an excited squeal and followed it. She was up a ladder and pulling a book out, she looked ridiculously happy. I couldn’t help but snort at her subtly and shake my head. She grinned down at me.</p><p>“Draco! Why have I never been here before? You’re never going to get rid of me now.” She was reaching higher for another book and I cast a balancing charm on her so she wouldn’t fall. If Granger wanted to stick to her goal of being independent she didn’t need to fall into my arms and I really wouldn’t have been able to help myself. If she gave even the slightest indication she wanted it, I would adhere to her and never let go.</p><p>“Well, we don’t know each other very well. Of all the Manor’s luxuries, only the very best of our acquaintances are given access to the library. There’s a waiting list.” She grinned at my sarcasm.</p><p>“I’ll consider myself excessively privileged to jump the queue then. But it’s utter nonsense that we don’t know each other very well.” Her eyes grazed over me as she sat on the top rung of the ladder, holding the side in a way that was elegantly languid yet thrumming with her continued excitement. A book resting in her lap. She was studying me, taking in my own regard of her. “My friendship with you is the best thing to have come out of my ill-conceived attempt at dating Blaise.”</p><p>I swallowed, she’d never said that before. I had assumed we were only colleagues. “I’m not friends with him anymore you know.”</p><p>“I know,” her voice was sad for me like she wished that hadn’t been a consequence of their break-up.</p><p>“He did love you, I saw it when I confronted him,” I don’t know why I said it, maybe to try and prove to her it wasn’t anything about her that made him do what he did.</p><p>She sighed though, “I know he did. Doesn’t that make it so much worse? He was so scared of how happy we were he had to go ruin it. Chase me off so he could feel in control again.” She paused, fiddling with a button on her shirt. “Did I ever thank you for getting me to Harry?”</p><p>I smirked at her and leaned against the stack. “Yes, once when we were all out for drinks you held onto my arm and waxed lyrical about my chivalry to Wood. Told him over and over again how wonderful and amazing I was. Your hands clutched me so hard I had bruises for weeks. Astoria was very upset about it.”</p><p>She flushed and buried her face in her hands but she was laughing. “I’m sorry, at least Olly had a brilliant sense of humour. I miss him. You know he and Viktor are best buds now? Olly was even Viktor’s best man earlier this year.”</p><p>“I guess they both had a traumatic event in their lives to bond over,” I told her, rolling the ladder she was sitting on to the end of the stack intent on bringing her over for a refreshment. Salazar knew I needed one.</p><p>She looked puzzled and I had to spell it out for her. “They both had to leave you to go to Bulgaria, a most specific and painful trauma I’m sure.”</p><p>She took the hand I proffered to help her down, looking up at me when she reached the ground. “Here’s hoping you never have to find out yourself.” She took me in, her eyes darting over my form. “You look really good. Your mother is letting me borrow something so I hope I don’t embarrass you.”</p><p>“You only just noticed, Granger? I suggest you move onto my lack of Quidditch skills if you intend to crush my self-esteem further,” I laid a faux-pained hand on my chest and smirked.</p><p>She flushed. “No, I noticed it as soon as I saw you. Of course I noticed it, I always notice it. I just- you distracted me with talk of people being eaten.” She was floating her hands around and her fingers caught the fabric of my jacket at one point, rubbing it between her fingers before she moved them away.</p><p>Again I marveled at her ability to attract people. Her mannerisms were different when she was single. She never would have done that before, now she said and did things far more intimately. Her casual honesty and ability to say what others would find embarrassing was refreshing and addictive. No wonder she never remained by herself for long. It took everything in me not to close the gap between us though my foot twitched. She looked down at it before bringing her eyes slowly up through her lashes as if wondering why I hadn’t.</p><p>“You <em>always</em> notice, Granger?” teasing her for her openness.</p><p>I thought she would backtrack, but instead she doubled down. She blinked up at me. “Of course I do. You’re gorgeous. Seriously so beautiful that sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe because your loveliness takes up all the air in the room.”</p><p>I felt like I did when she slapped me in third year. My skin hot and tingling, crackling energy between us except this time the pounding in my heart was due to desperately wanting to reciprocate. I have no idea how she wasn’t mortified after saying that.</p><p>My throat was dry but I forced the words out. “Granger, you want to be single, remember?”</p><p>She stepped back, a horrified look on her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m doing it again. Trying to seduce the person I’m interested in. Draco, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“You saying that only makes things worse, Granger. Now I know unequivocally that you knew what you were doing. Meaning you would be receptive to me returning those sentiments.” I had walked over to the bar cart and poured each of us a glass of champagne, I held out one for her and she came to join me. Deliberately avoiding touching my fingers.</p><p>“I thought your mother invited me for tea?” her voice was shaking slightly like she was trying very hard to control herself.</p><p>“Tea would have been lovely before the attempted seduction, liquor is the only way forward now,” she followed me taking a sip as I regarded her through the bubbles. “Why do you do this?”</p><p>“Why do I try to jump into another relationship as quickly as possible you mean?” she clarified and I nodded.</p><p>She sighed. “I’m not sure. I like caring about someone, I like the fluttering moments of early romance and trying to guess how deep my feelings go before I find myself giddily in love. I like learning about someone, seeing where my touch affects them most, showing my love for them not just emotionally but physically. I… really like physical intimacy but I can’t be satisfied unless there’s an emotional connection. And I crave being physical with someone most after a break up. And I’m scared of being alone.”</p><p>She wasn’t able to look at me again as she confessed her reasoning. She drank back half her glass before finding my eyes again. “And then the inevitable happens and the person leaves. Roger said that he realised that while he loved me, it was more that he was addicted to the feeling of me trying to love him as hard as I could and it made him feel guilty. He wanted to find in himself how I felt about him. Presumably that had to be with someone else. He said I would be fine, just like I’d jumped from Olly to him, I’d find someone else quickly. But I’m not fine. I still carry the hurt Ron and Blaise, Olly and Roger all gave me. If I hadn’t been the one to break up with Cormac I guess I’d be carrying that, too. It’s starting to feel like all my love is a waste.”</p><p>She looked so close to breaking, her eyes warm with tears she refused to let drop, her bottom lip was trembling but she had a defiant set to her jaw. Brave as ever.</p><p>Potter had asked me to be sure, I’d been sure for years. This had been the last blindspot I had on Hermione Granger and now I knew. I could handle it. I stepped closer and her breath got lost in her chest the way she’d described earlier, she forced herself to exhale.</p><p>I raised a hand to run my thumb over her jaw, soothing the tension there and she pressed against my touch.</p><p>“So, waste it on me,” I told her.</p><p>I vanished my glass and brought my other hand to her, caressing the outer shell of her ear and running fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.</p><p>She looked at me like I was handing her the world. “What?”</p><p>“Waste your love on me. I won’t require anything from you, I will only come when you call. I’ll give you all the space or lack of it you need. I’ll wait while you finally deal with the fallout of everyone before me. I’ll be your date for whatever inane event you are required to go to. I will get on with Potter and Weaslette. I will learn how to make your ridiculous coffee orders, I will read with you on rainy afternoons and debate you when you’re wrong and more fervently when you’re right. I will make you laugh and be your friend. I will comfort you and give you a safe space to be whoever you want to be. When you’re ready to move on and either be alone properly or you find someone else, I will let you go. And through it all I will most ardently love you, the way I do now and the way I have for years. So please, Hermione. Waste it all on me.”</p><p>“But what if- what if…” she stammered, her throat hoarse and choked with emotion. Like she could scarcely believe what I’d just said.</p><p>She blinked and a tear tracked from the corner of her eye to her hairline.</p><p>I waited.</p><p>She finished the last third of her glass before vanishing it as well. Raising her hands to gently rest on my wrists.</p><p>“But what if I’ve waited for this for so long that I can barely believe I’m not dreaming right now? What if I mentioned the Flourish &amp; Blotts group to Xenophilius and said it may be something your mother would be interested in to try and ingratiate myself to her? That I tried to love Olly and Roger so much in order to forget you. What if one word from you indicating your interest would have had me packing my things to arrive on your doorstep if you wanted me to or not? What if I told you part of the reason I was so upset with Blaise’s infidelity was because I realised I wouldn’t have a convenient excuse to see you anymore? What if I take you up on this and you find it doesn’t work for you after all and I waste away from broken heartedness?”</p><p>She looked at me with such shaking hope, fearful of my answers but since she hadn't been inclined to answer my question and only ask more of her own I figured words would get us nowhere.</p><p>I leaned down and kissed her cheek. She was trembling and a wistful sigh exited her. Her hands left my wrists and reached up to brush my hair off my forehead. She was smiling like she knew this was the beginning of something that probably would never end.</p><p>The door creaked open because of course it did.</p><p>"Draco, may I borrow Miss Granger so we may get ready this evening?"</p><p>My gaze never left Hermione's face. "Sorry mother, we will not be attending tonight. We have just made other plans. Right, Granger?"</p><p>She nods empathically. A hand trailing down my face not caring what my mother can see. "Apologies Narcissa, though I do hope we can spend time together soon."</p><p>My mother began edging the door closed again. "Perhaps if you are still here in the morning dear, we can have brunch."</p><p>Hermione coloured under my hands. I grin at her. "She thinks we are destined to be together."</p><p>"I hope she's right," her breath coasts over my hands and I bring my face down to kiss her so incredibly gently on the lips, it's more of a ghost than a kiss but it sets both our hearts racing.</p><p>Hermione's eyelashes dust across my cheeks and I rest my forehead on hers. We are both trying very hard not to move too fast, aware that there is a very tentative feel in the air.</p><p>She reached up and kissed me properly. It burned like the tingling of an unexpected spice on my lips. She pulled against me, bringing herself closer. My arms wrapped around her back, they snaked their way across her like they lived there.</p><p>It caused Hermione to let go of my neck and stroke her hands down the front of my body, licking across my lips to initiate the use of her tongue against mine.</p><p>She was exploratory and passionate, she smiled against me and I couldn’t help but return it making our teeth slightly clash together but she just surged closer.</p><p>I thought when I was finally able to touch her this way it would be an inferno. A fire I wouldn’t be able to control. Instead it was like a firework display. Every new sensation an anticipatory elevation before pausing and bursting in a glimmering wonder, drifting down to coat us in sparkling brilliance.</p><p>Her hands kept travelling and she untucked my shirt, slipping her hands so they could touch skin. Everywhere she touched prickled with goose pimples despite the warm July day.</p><p>She pulled back just enough to breathe words into me. “Draco, I intend for both of us to be naked very soon, can we go back to your rooms? I would hate to be interrupted again.”</p><hr/><p>One year later</p><p>“My lease is coming up in a month,” Hermione informed me, settling on the couch.</p><p>I didn’t even look up. “I’m reading, Granger. You bade me read to discuss this article and now you’re trying to distract me.”</p><p>“Dracooo,” she wheedled, poking my cheek to get my attention until I was smiling. “Stop reading. Talk to me. Please?”</p><p>I gave a huge exhalation as if it was a grand imposition but turned, resting my head on hand, elbow on the back of her couch, grinning at her. “Yes?”</p><p>She swallowed and her eyes darkened the way they always did when I acted casually around her.</p><p>“None of that now, Hermione. You’ve already interrupted one suggestion for another. I’ll stop listening to you altogether if you switch the directive yet again.” I leaned into her, daring her despite what my words said. She was distracted, watching my lips move and she reached her hand out to trace her thumb over them. I slipped it partway into my mouth, dancing my tongue over the pad and she shuddered.</p><p>I grasped the hand with my own and stroked her palm slowly. “So your lease is nearly finished?”</p><p>“Hm?” She was focused on the patterns my fingers made on her hand, she was breathing deeply and she was slowly running the corner of her bottom lip through her teeth. I could feel the rise of her desire permeate the room.</p><p>We had resolved to only see each other once a week after we first got together. It was difficult, I found I would often track where she would be at various times of the day. She’d be at work, at dinner with Potter and Ginevra, this night she was with my mother at Flourish &amp; Blotts, that night was when she washed her hair.</p><p>It was more challenging for her, she was living alone and Potter and I had helped her to get used to spending time by herself. She resolved to spend four nights at home without company, one night was spent at Potter’s, one with me and another was a floating night. It had been six months before she allowed it to also be a floating night to be alone without forcing a social outing.</p><p>It had taken even longer before she stopped jumping me as soon as either she or I arrived at the other’s place. Now she would usually chat with me for an hour or so before her libido overtook her.</p><p>“Hermione…” my voice contained a teasing warning trying to pull her back despite her temptation.</p><p>She shook her head and grasped my hand giving it a quick squeeze before pulling back.</p><p>“My lease,” she said with conviction. “I think- I think I need to extend it for another year. It still feels like an achievement only seeing people twice a week. It still doesn’t feel normal,” she looked nervous, waiting for my answer tentatively.</p><p>“You know I support this,” I responded.</p><p>She nodded. “To be honest, I already renewed it.” She fidgeted her hands to stop herself from reaching out. We both knew if she did she wouldn’t stop touching me and Salazar knew I didn’t have the restraint to stop her. “But I also want to see you more.”</p><p>She appeared to be struggling to put something into words so I waited. After a couple false starts she spoke. “Before, it felt like I wasn’t whole unless I was with someone. I hated being alone with my thoughts, I felt a compulsion to constantly share them. Maybe it was validation or… I don’t really know.” She paused, exhaled and continued.</p><p>“Now, I feel good being in my flat, like I’m my own person and I’m happy. I like the weird things I only do by myself, I like having time to reflect and to comfort myself if I need it. But all through it, I miss you. I know I’m enough by myself but you enrich my life. Like I’m the main course but you’re dessert. I don’t need you, but you make the whole experience so much better. Does that… make sense?”</p><p>She looked so impossibly adorable as if her revelation were something novel. I couldn’t help but smile at her indulgently. “Of course it makes sense, Granger. That is how every secure person feels when they find someone to add to their life. It’s how I’ve felt about you for years.”</p><p>“Oh,” she blushed slightly. “It’s rather wonderful, isn’t it?”</p><p>She leaned forward and kissed me, giggling. I gathered her into my lap and stroked her hair thinking that yes it really <em>was</em> wonderful.</p><p>As she accelerated things, pulling off my jumper a sequence of images flitted in my mind, promising what the future held:</p><p>Another year and we move in together.</p><p>Six months more and she proposes to me. She’s already accepted a proposal before, she wants to give one now.</p><p>Another three months and we get married, my mother has been preparing for this day since she met Hermione, learning her preferences to make things perfect.</p><p>
  <em>Fifteen years later</em>
</p><p>We are having lunch with Ginny and Harry, their youngest and our eldest having headed to Hogwarts for the first time that morning.</p><p>I am trying to convince my outraged wife who holds no stock in Divination that I had envisioned all this years prior.</p><p>The Potters are openly laughing as Hermione passionately debunks why that could not possibly be true.</p><p>I catch one of her flailing hands and kiss it which falters the ferocity of her argument.</p><p>The waiter comes up to our table, “Can I interest you in dessert this afternoon?”</p><p>Hermione’s eyes find mine and I quirk my eyebrow at her in a faint query. She swallows and her hand twitches in mine wanting to touch elsewhere. We don’t even hear what the Potters say as we stare at each other. Our love stronger than ever, our lives better than we could possibly have imagined.</p><p>The waiter turns to us. “And for yourselves?”</p><p>Without even looking at him, keeping her eyes on mine she answers for us.</p><p>“No thanks, I’ll have dessert at home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had an entirely different idea for this when I started writing it. It happens to me often that the characters take me places I didn't think they would go. These two wanted to stay fluffy no matter how smutty I tried to make it. So floofy they remain and I'll have to try smoot it up some other time.</p><p>Thank you for reading.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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